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Me: How’s the ankle?

Cordelya: Better

Me: Your better or my better?

Cordelya: LOL is there a difference?

I feel my smile grow as we lightly banter.

Me: I’m going to go with yes. My better would be:

Me: no swelling

Me: no pain when you put weight on it

Me: no tenderness to the touch

Me: Your version is probably more like: it only hurts a little

The bubble with three dots appears, then disappears, then appears again. I start to worry that I may have overstepped when a text comes through.

Cordelya: I pick option number 3. No swelling, no pain when I stand on it, and it only hurts a little when I touch it

Me:

Cordelya:

Me: I don’t suppose I can convince you to not walk on it all day at work?

Cordelya: Nope. Girl’s got animals to feed.

Me: Will you at least keep it wrapped for me?

Cordelya: Yes. I will keep it wrapped. Just for you.

“Just for me,” I mutter as my stomach does a flip that has nothing to do with the earlier nausea.

Me: Thank you, Moonlight

I hit send before I realize what I’ve typed.

FUCK.

The three little dots appear as my anxiety spikes.

I regret every life choice that has led to this moment.

Except meeting Cordelya. Never that.

After what feels like an eternity, her message appears.

Cordelya: Moonlight?

Fuck me, this is worse. She wants me to explain. How do I explain that when I first saw her she was bathed in moonlight like an ethereal creature out of my fantasies and not freak her out?

She’s just starting to relax around me. Or at least that’s how it feels based off of last night and this text conversation. The last thing I want to do is scare her off again.

Fuck, fuck, fuck.